It was summer
by kagayaspirits
Summary: A vow made in summer.


So I was wrong, this is was tmy first attempt in finishing a Hetalia fic. Still very inexperienced I am ^^  
There was no prompts or anything, just inspiration from cat's meos while I was playing Touhou or something. Also, I have no idea if GreeceXJapan is popular among fandom or not (personally I'm a USXUK fangirl), but I can't find any other suitable couple to write about. Enjoy it then ^^

*******

It was summer.

The temperature rose so high that even though you had had the thirteenth saltwater popsicle for the day you still thought that the heat was too overwhelming. It was so hot, so damn hot that you almost thought of abadoning your traditional kimono (which meant a lot, providing you are some sort of tradition-freak and wear suits to world conferences only). It was so hot that once you'd dipped yourself into the bathtub you would never want to leave again.

There was a rare wind once in a while to cool down the burning feeling on your skin. Then it ever decide to visit you, the windchime would sing happily its bell-like tune, the sleeves of that kimono you were wearing would flap a little, just a little, the drying-up skin of yours would be super sensitive to catch that once-in-a-while bless of a wind.

The cidadas sang their annoying, head-aching song all the time in a carefree chorus that might sound rather unique to those like Russia, but was a pain in the butt for those tropical fellows who had to listen to them every single summer.

The cats were in heat too. Summer was with them meowing into your eardrums every early night that you gave up to the bored heat and went to bed. They would chase their kins around the unsecured botany garden of yours calling out to their mates victoriously or painfully, make that at-the-climax bursting sound that threatened your beauty sleep. You would wish that you had got a more vicious-looking dog than little fluffy Pochi curling at the end of your futon.

Summer night, of every years, is typical.

It is filled with the lame chorus of cidadas' song like the buzz of a trillion beetles.

It is with the desire of jumping into something cold and wet and Siberia sounds so tempting.

It is with the windchime's bells sounding once in a while, marking the visit of an always-welcomed guest.

It is with the cats on heat busy flirting with each other.

It is a very typical, annual summer night.

It was such a night that they made the vow.

*******

Greece came over to play again and Japan was rather annoyed. Not because that he didn't like Greece-san, no, Greece was someone really kind and nice to be with, he was someone who could make others feel at ease.

It was just that Greece came to play in the summer, when the cats got in heat and started practicing their ritual calls. In addition to that, Greece attracted cats.

Not that Japan hated cats. He was just not a very cat person (especially after that time when France-san put cat ears onto his head in the middle of the formal party among the Old World countries). But that didn't mean he wouldn't mind seeing a colony of cats sitting and walking around in his living room and scratching his furniture and meowing as if Greece was giving off some sort of pheromone.

Greece was smiling and chatting with the happily meowing felines while stroking their fur and scratch behind their ears.

The cats purred in delight.

Japan simply regretted letting his so-called guest in today

'Cats in Japan sure are cute, aren't they?'

Right after sending countless glares at Greece until the older man finally realized what that deadly chilling feeling down his spine was, he quickly let the cats out. Japan wasted no seconds and grabbed the other's hand and led him to the botany garden for a walk.

They had been walking around the huge lane for four hours and Japan was still walking without a word., while Greece fought in vain to start a decent conversation.

'The garden at night looked rather different. What's that, a new bonsai you've just bought?'

'It really is hot in the summer right Japan?'

'I wonder if you'll make me hot pot again for dinner tonight. Walking tires me out.'

'Hey Japan, what's that star above…umphh'

Japan had finally stopped walking. He stood motionlessly in the middle of the narrow path in the center of the dark garden. The sun had long set and the moon had long risen. The garden was still very very hot, making Greece's T-shirt stuck to his back and sweat skidding down his face. The cidadas were still practicing their chorus on the few tall trees planted in the garden.

The cats' own chorus of impatient males joined in in the air.

'Greece-san, why did you come here?'

'Eh, Japan…'

'Why did you come here today, of all days?'

'I guess I miss your hot pot?'

'Be serious!'

If France were at the sight at that time, he would surely squeal out 'LOVELY, JAPAN~', for the said person ad turned around, face all flushed and eyes glimmering with unshedded tears. He was looking up at his companion, who looked rather dumbfounded and taken aback from the change in events.

They stood like that for eternity, or that was what Japan thought. The noises of animals around them got so loud he wished he had brought earplugs with him. There was not a wind blowing, the entire dark background around them stood still like a pastel painting.

Japan had no idea why he asked such a question himself. He didn't know why he was so frustrated, seeing Greece at his doorsteps, seeing Greece with a purring cat on his laps, seeing Greece trying so hard to talk things out with him, seeing Greece being so kind, so obedient, so so sweet, yet didn't know why he acted likewise.

Japan waited. But then again, what was there to wait for? What did he expect to hear from him? He expected nothing. Yet he waited, eyes determining at the other man, searching for an answer he didn't yet know and wouldn't want to know.

Times passed and Greece was still standing there, not a muscle moving, not a word saying. There were more sweatdrops on his forehead, his hair stuck into little locks, his tall frame making a big shadow on the ground, shading onto the pots of bonsai behid his back.

A sudden noise broke the air. Seemed like some tomcats had had a tough fight and one of them won.

Japan let out a sigh. He bent his head back, eyes fixed on the ground.

'So that's your answer….'

'Japan…' was Greece's first word ever since forever.

There was still no answer.

Japan felt like he was going to cry. He didn't want to cry in front of him, of all people. He would not break for something he knew that would never be real. He would not let anyone see him being weak, defenseless, useless, desperated. Therefore, he lifted his head up.

'Just forget about it then. I'm sorry for being strange, Greece-san. Ne, let's just go back.'

'Wait.'

Japan was already started walking away.

'You must be really hungry, Greece-san. Let's go have your favorite hot pot…'

SLAM!

'I Said Wait!'

Japan found himself trapped. In front of him was an old cherry tree, a big old tree-a barrier preventing him from going anywhere.. By his head were muscular arms blocking the sides. Behind him was a tall man with dark hair. Japan was trapped in this man-cage.

He was afraid. He was a man of his own, he did lose but was never trapped. Moreover, he had never seen the always kind, always smiling Greece acting so strange before. He was afraid of looking at him, looking into his eyes, afraid of what he might do. Japan didn't know the Greece that was blocking his escapes. Japan didn't know this Greece.

Still, he got nothing to lose. What could be worse than a silent rejection from the other man?

'What are you doing, Greece-san?'

'Listen to me, Japan…'

'I miss you.'

'I really appreaciate your heart, but can you please let me go, we really need to get back…'

Tough, long arms were already encircling Japan's slim and small body. His face was slammed into a reliable and damp chest, his cheeks rubbing onto the fabric of the T-shirt. His whole body was starting to react to the heat radiating from the other man.

'I really, really miss you Japan. I'm sorry I couldn't visit you so often. I'm sorry for coming over all out of the blue. I'm sorry for not being able to say anything.'

'I was afraid. I was afraid of being in Europ,e being so far away from you. I was afraid when I heard that America and England and even France usually come over to your place. I was afraid, thinking about you with them, with anyone else. I was afraid but I was a coward. I was too much of a coward to call you, to ask if you are well, to say that I miss you. I was too much of a coward to go here and see you with someone else. I was too much of a coward to say how much I love you.'

'I'm sorry, Japan.'

In the garden with dim light from distant lamps, with cidada as the chorus, with cats as the main singer, with the rare summer breeze as the orchestra, a vow was made between the East and the West.

It was sealed with skin mingling with skin, fingertips touching fingertips, lips drowning into lips, arms entangling into arms. It was sealed with virginity embed on purple silk abadoned on the dirty path. It was sealed with pants and quick breaths and moans and little screams and smiles. It was sealed with a man, by a man.

It was a vow of summer midnight.

*******

It was another typical summer. A summer of burning sun and boiling heat and ridiculously-tuned cidada chorus.

Only the cats were gone. There was no cats to be found, not among the pots of bonsais, not by the garbage bin at the end of the garden, not around the trees, not anywhere. The cats were all gone, like a summer wind.

Japan got himself Pochi. But Pochi was a dog and didn't meow in summer.

Japan found himself sitting at the table looking out at the garden. He found himself searching for a prideful cat strolling by the garden.

Greece was gone like a summer wind too. The morning after that night, Japan woke up to find himself fully-dressed, tucked nicely into his futon. He found his breakfast in the living room, his kimono from the night before all washed-up and folded neatly on the table. He found his slippers put orderly on the shelf. He found it all perfectly typical.

If it wasn't for a sting whenever he tried to run and a heavy rock tucking into his chest.

He had never seen Greece again. They only saw each other again once at the conference. Greece was talking to Spain and Japan was talking to America.

Japan kept on mistaking that it was Greece-san who he was talking to.

Once in a while, Japan would hear a very strange sound. It was like the desperated meows of a lost kitten in the garden.  
But whenever he went into the garden to search for the meows, the sound was gone.

After a week, Japan decided that it was a delusion in his head all this time. Still, he couldn't help looking for the lost kitten in his mind.

Because the meows just wouldn't go away at all.

Today, Japan was sure that he heard the meows, they were so loud and clear it couldn't be his imagination alone. So he went into the garden again. He followed the little sound the kitten made.

He went pass that cherry tree in the center of the garden, which used to be stained by mixed semen and sweat and blood.

He went pass the bonsai that he bought more than a year ago, the one which got more attention than any other ones in the garden.

He went pass the narrow dirt path leading nowhere.

He went pass the house and heard the meows from the living room.

He saw the lost kitten at the table, grinning sheepishly with a goden cup in his hands.

'Hey, Japan, the Euro Championship Cup!'

CLANG!

The cup was thrown aimlessly at the floor while a body quickly filled up the empty space between the hands. Japan's body was also wrapped between tough and muscular arms, his face dipped into the broad chest damp with sweat.

'I'm home, Japan.'

It was summer.


End file.
